Eggnog and Kisses
by zissa
Summary: As far as holidays go, Wolf has led a rather deprived life up until now. But not anymore.


"What's this one?" Wolf wrinkled his nose at the contents of the mug Scarlet had just handed him, scrutinizing the pale liquid none too favorably. Scarlet let out the fifth huff of disbelief for the past half hour and dropped back into the window-seat opposite him with her back to the wall and her feet tucked against his side to steal a little warmth. In a drafty farmhouse in mid-December, she would take all she could get.

"Seriously? No eggnog on Luna, either?" She was beginning to wonder if Levana had just outlawed all the fun foods on purpose. She'd spent the last several weeks introducing Wolf to all the traditional holiday foods, and he had been totally unfamiliar with ninety percent of them. Poor boy had led a deprived life. Wolf took a cautious sip, his huge hands engulfing the mug entirely as he tipped it to his mouth, then grimaced.

"I'm not sure that one was a great loss." He batted away the decorative pillow Scarlet chucked at him with a smile Scarlet couldn't resist returning. She loved that particular smile. Relaxed and playful, and flashed only when they were alone. When he was at peace with himself. "Hey! At least I liked the cocoa…"

" _Everyone_ likes cocoa. You'd be weird if you didn't."

Wolf was in the process of taking another sip—just to be absolutely sure he didn't like it—and narrowly avoided giving Scarlet an eggnog shower when he laughed. "So, you're saying I'm not already weird? I think our neighbors might disagree with you."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. Their neighbors were still…adjusting…to seeing a towering wolf soldier trailing her around the farm. It had definitely been rough for their first few months back in France (three visits from the local police in as many weeks because of reports of "a monster"), but it was getting better. The Bernards had even brought over a plate of gingerbread the day before. They'd declined to stay for cocoa, but hey…it was progress.

"They'll get over it. Besides, they're weird, too." She dropped her voice to a playfully conspiratorial whisper. "Mr. Bernard doesn't like _cider_. How weird can you get?"

"Cider?"

"Another holiday drink." Made from their own apples, even. Scarlet glanced out the window she was pressed against, her breath fogging up the glass as she squinted to catch a glimpse of the farm's orchard in the dusky light. They'd had a particularly good harvest this year. Bushels and bushels of plump, shiny red apples plucked from lush, healthy trees that had yielded more than ever despite the turmoil that had surrounded them—and the rest of the universe—over the past year. The trees were bare now, nothing but dark, gnarled silhouettes against the heavy blanket of new snow, but they reminded Scarlet of hope. Of renewal. Of the surety that life kept right on going even after the revolution.

"Exactly how many holiday drinks do you have here?" Wolf gulped down his second taste of the eggnog and grimaced again as it slid down his throat. Scarlet chuckled and reached for the mug, the metal of her replacement pinky clinking against the ceramic of the mug as he gladly passed it over. She knocked back its contents in one impressive gulp and grinned at Wolf's awestruck look. He did that fairly often, too. It was a little humbling…but much like his relaxed grin, she wouldn't be getting tired of it anytime soon, either.

"More than enough for you to get by with not liking one…you snob." She tacked on the last bit while biting the corner of her lip to keep from smiling. It drew a mischievous growl from Wolf, low and rumbling and pleasant and completely, totally unthreatening, as he snaked massive arms across the window seat to drag her fully into his lap. Massive fingers danced up and down her sides, hitting the ticklish spots he'd discovered—and shamelessly exploited—in the recent months.

He finally stopped when they were both laughing so hard that neither of them could breathe, but left his great arms wrapped comfortably around Scarlet's middle and her back against his chest. She sagged against him, still chuckling softly as she burrowed deeper into his warmth. She could get used to this. A quiet home, shrouded by the calm, peaceful silence of falling snow. A cozy nook, lit only by the cheery strings of red and green lights strung around the Christmas tree they'd decorated earlier. The full, drowsy feeling left in her belly by holiday food. And, most importantly, the only person she'd ever consider sharing it all with.

She craned her head back to study Wolf's face as he stared out the window, entranced by the snowflakes drifting past the porchlight outside, and felt the faintest pang in her chest. This Christmas…it wasn't like last year. Last year, it had been her grandmother that shared her eggnog and told jokes while they strung up the Christmas lights, who had baked her favorite treats and badgered her into wearing a sweater around the house to keep out the drafts. It wouldn't be the same.

"What is it?" Wolf's low voice rumbled in his chest and when he looked curiously down at her, there was a pale eggnog mustache clinging to his lips. Scarlet smiled. Because despite all she'd lost…she couldn't feel any less grateful for what she'd gained.

"You've got eggnog." She reached up and flicked a drop of it away with an index finger. Wolf snorted, then a slow, wicked smile unfurled and his head dipped closer to hers.

"Huh. However shall I get rid of it? Given how much I hate eggnog."

"Well, lucky for you…" Scarlet reached back and hooked a hand in his collar, stretching up to meet his lips and kissing along the eggnog remnants before letting his lips meet hers to kiss him fully. "I'm pretty fond of it."


End file.
